The cowboy way |

The cowboy way

Fact is we were disposable,

they said we should be tough.

It matters not how hard they buck,

if you ride good enough.

Our quarters were not fancy,

they crammed us in on bunks.

Late starts were still way early,

cob webs and in a funk.

The cure was cowboy coffee,

two scoops in an old sock.

Enough to warm your innards,

and knock you off your block.

The sun is rising yonder,

night creatures hunt their holes.

Old Herman rides on past you,

last watch on night patrol.

You wonder why you do it,

how’d it get in your blood?

Just bear down and live through it,

this rain will make the mud.

The mud that makes it harder,

to brand or rope a cow.

A few months we’ll be praying,

for rain we’re cussing now.

We were true west inventions,

the rhymes of Renegades.

We had best of intentions,

though sometimes misbehaved.

The punchers life a secret,

to those who lived in town.

But once a person got here,

thrown in and bounced around.

It started growing on you,

the strong desire to stay.

There’s no way to explain it,

it is the Cowboy Way.

Start a dialogue, stay on topic and be civil.
If you don't follow the rules, your comment may be deleted.

User Legend: iconModerator iconTrusted User


See more